


Severed

by UnmaskedPotential



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Adversity, Angst, Death, Disability, Gen, Hope, Injury, Life-changing events, Paralysis, Permanent - Freeform, Recovery, Social support, Stability, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Trauma, life - Freeform, meaning making, overcoming
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-16
Updated: 2019-03-07
Packaged: 2019-08-24 17:30:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 18,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16644650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnmaskedPotential/pseuds/UnmaskedPotential
Summary: An AU in which Loki sustains an injury in battle while fighting alongside his older brother, Thor. When it turns out that his injury is permanent, how may Loki choose to live his life with enjoyment and happiness? Will his brother’s friends, the Avengers, support or hinder his recovery?





	1. Chapter 1

 

He’d been hit.

 

He’d been hit.

 

He had been HIT.

 

The second son of the golden realm of Asgard had been hit.

 

He’d been hit.

 

He’d been hit.

 

He was injured.

 

The trickster knew as much from the horned sword that pierced him through the abdomen.

 

What he couldn’t let go of though, was the fact that he’d been hit to begin with.

 

Loki didn’t GET hit in battle. He was too fast, too agile, too quick for the enemies to even _scratch_ him. Thor? Thor got hit, sometimes. When the oaf was too thick skulled to know when to back off from an enemy that was too big, too quick and two steps ahead of him. Thor, sometimes, got hit. But Loki? Loki never got hit…well, okay, once. Once he got hit.

 

When the prince was younger, a good eight hundred years ago, he’d been hurt in a battle against Vanaheim. His shoulder had been sliced with a venomous arrow. It had taken him three weeks to heal properly from that injury. It was a brutal, long recovery but he **had** recovered.

 

This time, though?

 

Loki knew he wouldn’t be so lucky.

 

Loki knew this time was different.

 

He knew as his eyes rolled about uselessly in his skull, that this time was very, very different.

 

Loki knew this because not only was there a horned sword sticking through his abdomen, but he could feel his magic ineffectually swirling about the broken bones of his vertebrae.

 

And, if the lack of feeling--of feeling ANYTHING at all--in his legs was any indication, Loki was paralyzed.

 

The trickster’s head lolled back to the sandy ground beneath him. Only one word came to mind, and he uttered it softly from his lips:

 

“Fuck.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

It was a Tuesday when it happened.

 

It was that final, soul crushing Tuesday when he and his brother’s life changed forever.

 

It didn’t start so dreadfully, there were no shadows whispering taunts in the branches of the thick honeysuckle trees. There were no ominous waves of sandstorms that curtailed around their ankles in a sign of utmost warning.

 

Rather, it was a bright, sunny Tuesday. Warm for the realm they were in but not so hot that it would make his green eyed brother faint from dehydration.

 

Oh, no, it was a mighty fine Tuesday for battle. Or so, the eldest son presumed.

 

Now though, catching the harrowing cry of side sweeping pain from his younger sibling etched cold ice into his veins.

 

The blonde haired prince hurriedly knocked out his remaining opponent and swung his hammer aggressively towards Loki’s unexpected attacker.

 

_Loki’s unexpected attacker._

 

Thor swallowed hard at the thought, knowing his younger sibling, while not adept at fighting like the other warriors in Asgard, had his strengths with quick thinking and sly movements. Essentially, Loki did not **get** unexpected attackers. **He** was the prince of unexpected attacking.

 

So when Thor turned fully to meet the eye of his younger brother, anticipating the sheepish yet prideful stare of the youngster communicating ‘I had it’ and ‘I didn’t require your help, brother,’ he was shocked once more to find his eyes falling to the crumpled lump on the ground.

 

For a moment Thor’s world stood at a standstill. He forgot how to breathe as his blue eyes took in the sight of red blood spilling out from his brother’s back--but it couldn’t be his, right? There was no way for it to even be possible that Loki had gotten hit. No way. It was blood from his attacker, their opponents, nothing more and nothing less.

 

It didn’t matter in that moment that their enemy bled in the most putrid of yellows. It didn’t matter that Sif and the Warriors Three were obliviously fighting yet, it didn’t matter that the battle raged on beyond him. None of these details mattered, because what mattered most to him was lying ahead, injured upon the ground, and his vision had decreased into pinpoint tunnels because of it.

 

“Loki,” he breathed, finally, air sliding out of him with a speed he knew not it carried.

 

As his legs turned from cement to jelly, he could picture his father’s unceremoniously blank expression. In an instant he knew his father was going to be pissed at him.

 

In the next moment, he felt sick to his stomach for thinking so selfishly.

 

“Loki!”

 

Three feet away now and it dawned on Thor that something was terribly wrong with his brother. Aside from the fact that he could see Loki’s body seemingly shivering, Thor couldn’t make out his brother’s green eyes and worse, still, there was a weapon piercing through his brother’s stomach.

 

“Loki!” The roar of a cry erupted from his jaw as he ran faster to come to his brother’s aid.

 

An incomprehensible gurgle met his ears in response. For a second, Thor thought his brother was trying to speak--but his hands hovered over him uncertainly, not knowing what to do.

 

“Loki?”

 

Again, a bubbling wet gurgle met him.

 

“Loki?” Terror suddenly gripped the elder sibling with a ferocious force as he crouched beside his younger brother.

 

Loki appeared three shades paler with an ashen hue to his skin. His eyes rolled around uncontrollably, shut behind his eyelids like tightly pulled blankets.

 

What Thor had initially considered shivering was quickly turning out to be his brother convulsing.

 

Loki’s hands, resting over his rapidly rising chest, tremble and twitch as his shoulders rock back and forth against the ground. Blood continued to pool onto the sandy gravel, his green-gold armor cracked with the horned sword from where it was tightly lodged.

 

Another gurgle and sputter brought Thor’s focus from watery eyes and astonishment to a desperate glance to the sky as he hoped his next actions would prove not to be fatal.

 

_Fatal._

 

Thor’s stomach lurched in sympathizing pain, the urge to vomit dying on his cracked lips as he pulled at Loki’s shoulders, allowing the spit, blood and bile to slog out of his brother’s mouth.

 

“By the Norns,” Thor gagged, nearly puking on Loki’s form but just managing to swallow back the acidity before it had time to be birthed.

 

“Brother, please, if you can hear me--open your eyes,” Thor’s body felt frail as he gazed upon Loki’s body, watching with fear and mistrust that his brother was potentially gearing up to leave him in the dust of this cursed realm.

 

Regret and guilt pooled in Thor’s shoes--it was his idea to come out for battle without father’s supervision. And now, Loki was paying the price for his foolish mistakes. Had the elder sibling learned nothing from his mistakes on Jotenheim? How could he have been so boar headed to put his loved ones in danger all over again?

 

It was with these sickening thoughts that Thor, with a sob, lifted his younger brother into his arms. He cradled Loki’s head on the muscles of one bicep as his brother’s body lay limp across his heavy chest. Thor could feel the struggling breaths wrack through Loki’s ribs as his brother tried over and over to draw in air that wouldn’t dare to come.

 

He felt a soft hand on his shoulder and the concerned voice of someone whispering his name, but as his thoughts whirled and his stare focused on Loki’s face--memorizing his every feature--Thor couldn’t bring himself to listen efficiently.

 

Nothing else in that moment mattered. Everything that had ever once meant something to Thor lay dying in his arms. He couldn’t be sure how he would ever forgive himself.

 

He felt, as the shadows of the Bifrost fell over them, that it was likely he never would.

 

How could any crowned prince forgive themselves for their brother’s death, when it was most surely their own fault?

 

As Thor’s eyes flickered closed, he made a promise to himself then and there to hold onto hope for Loki, as Loki was going to require every last ounce of strength his family held dear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hey everyone! I'm heading through this fanfic as well in the hopes that I will become re-inspired to continue on the current chapter that I've not touched since around the summer-time. I hope that you guys will enjoy this story and all the feels within it! There will be some suicidal themes in the story, but I'll preface those specific chapters with a warning, so don't worry too much about that! 
> 
> Hope you guys are doing well. <3 
> 
> This chapter was written Dec. 7 and Dec. 9th of 2016.  
> This A/N was written Nov. 20 2018. :)  
> Let me know what you guys think!!


	3. Chapter 3

Two blue eyes meet one--a remorseful pain and a strained acknowledgement, respectively.

 

Neither says a word.

 

The single eye shivers downwards.

 

Concealed recognition flashes through that iris.

 

A pause hovers as he considers his options.

 

“Father, please,” the thunder god’s voice breaks in agony. He senses his father’s reservations, but the green eyed trickster doesn’t have enough time left.

 

Just when he thinks he will have to storm into Asgard, Allfather be damned, father releases his strongly held breath.

 

“Take him to the healing rooms,” father glances briefly at Sif and the Warriors Three. Just as Thor reaches the start of the Bifrost, father speaks again.

 

“And, Thor, I expect to have a word with you, soon.”

 

A chill ran through Thor’s shoulders at his father’s haunted words, but at least the king of Asgard was granting his younger brother treatment. He could have just… Thor shakes the thought from his mind.

 

“Very well, father,” Thor says softly.

 

He hurries off down the rainbow bridge towards the healers.

 

;/;

 

There are murmured voices circling his raven locks.

 

A hot, white pain encircles his torso. He can feel the convulsions continuing to wrack through his body.

 

He begs for death, for the agony of his very existence to end. He gasps for air, the inhalations barely reaching his lungs as the blood blocks its passageway.

 

He chokes, coughs, struggles.

 

He feels, just barely, his shoulders jar from someone’s warmth to a cool, soft surface.

 

He does not have the strength in him to open his eyes. He hears through the bligesnipe in his ear canals the shuffling of feet on marbled floor.

 

Is he back in Asgard?

 

For a moment he is uncertain as to what Asgard even is.

 

His brain works slowly, groggily. It’s as if he has consumed poisonous mead--something he had once done as a younger god, unbeknownst to him at the time. The symptoms are similar: he cannot focus beyond the pain, he cannot will himself to consciousness, he cannot…cannot…cannot?

 

It’s as if he’s being tortured all over again, this time by his own form.

 

He’s vaguely aware of the enemy’s elongated weapon still lodged in his abdomen. He feels it with each gurgle of his shaking breaths.

 

Breaths…breaths that are no longer coming.

 

Breaths that bring no air, no replenishment, that brings nothing.

 

He enters nothingness. He is nothingness.

 

He was Loki… and now he is gone.

 

;/;

 

“What is happening to him?” Thor roared in alarm. His voice shook in the room, and other Asgardians being attended to cringed at the elder prince’s tone. Thor was not pleased and they wished they could leave rather than unwillingly witness his uncontrolled wrath.

 

“What is wrong?” Thor tried again, raising a hand to his face. He slid it down his exasperated features, watching with wide eyes as the healers exchanged concerned looks.

 

“Why aren’t you helping him?” Thor gasped as if he weren’t capable of getting enough oxygen into his system.

 

“Help him!!”

 

Eir, eyes masking a blank expression shuddered, staring back at Thor.

 

“I’m sorry, my prince. Loki is gone.”

 

Thor could barely hold himself upright.

 

“Wha--what? But he’s--he’s right there. Why can’t you--?”

 

“He is not breathing, my prince. Unless I can travel to Anaheim, I can do nothing for him here.”

 

“So, go! Do as you must! Don’t let my brother perish so needlessly!”

 

Eir hesitated for a moment then amended, “I can perform a magical cleanse on him in the meantime, but we must remove the weapon.” Before Thor could interject, Eir continued. “It is lodged deeply within him, my prince. I cannot guarantee a safe removal of it. Moving the spear could prove to have disastrous consequences. He may bleed out when we are able to revive him, or he may have suffered too much organ damage to return to us. Removing the spear, cleansing him and what I can gather in Anaheim may not even save him. He…he may die even yet.”

 

Thor stared at Loki’s peaceful face. Loki had been through so much in his short life, could he survive this? Thor’s love for him, the love for his brother that often hated him so, was far too deep. He loved Loki. He would do anything for him. He was his blood, even if not by a literal sense. They had grown together, fought together, and Loki remained loyal even when Thor could not trust him.

 

Of course there had been the battle of New York City, but Thor knew his younger sibling was still in there somewhere.

 

Thor thought to the moment Loki let go of Gungnir at the edge of the Bifrost. Thor remembers the pained expression, the peacefulness, the resignation that came into his brother’s green eyes as a tear swept down his cheek and he fell… fell to what they all believed was his death. He could have been so much more. He could have been his brother again… He still could be.

 

He would do anything to repair their bond, but Loki had to be alive in order to do so.

 

“Do everything you can. My brother will pull through.” Thor answered Eir without looking up at her. He merely watched his brother’s face, the ashen hue, the darkness of his lips.

 

He could do differently by Loki. He could help Loki, save him. He would not perish so soon. Not yet. Not…not now. Thor refused to let him go.

 

“He must,” he whispered to himself.

 

Without Loki, Thor was nothing.

 

And Thor had already promised himself that he wouldn’t let Loki go alone.

 

If Loki were to die, Thor knew he would follow.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original A/N (written from 8/24/2017): 
> 
> OH THE ANGUISH! But an update nonetheless. Thank you so much for the recent reviews (on FF.net) it really pushed me to get back into this story! I have established a new additional route this story will take and will probably get to it within a few more chapters. Can’t wait for those cliff hangers to come! 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and sticking with Loki and Thor! They need you guys! *hugs* 
> 
> Present Day A/N (12/28/18): 
> 
> Heyyyy guys!! Another update from me for AO3, I've got a friend who may be reading over my material so I want to actually go back to updating my fics which is probably what my weekend will focus on this time around (the past couple were on Youtube videos (my own)). I have multiple chapters in my fics in progress so here's hoping the Muse will come this weekend (ALU, S, D&D, CEC, TWBtE) So I hope you guys enjoy this update and if you could leave a review that'd be great! Here's hoping all of our 2019's go swimmingly!! See ya later! xxx


	4. Chapter 4

As dusk transitioned to twilight, the healers began the cleanse. Golden light shifted between the thick curtains: dancing shadows casting over Loki’s ashen form. The young prince lay perfectly still, almost to be mistaken for sleeping, although the stark lack of a rising and falling chest indicated something far more sinister.

 

Eir hovered her open palm over Loki’s forehead, muttering softly the incantation that would begin the cleanse. As she entered the half-way part of its recitation, sparkling gold light began to emanate from her warm touch. The light bathed the young Asgardian prince into a sea of gold, its small tendrils reaching out to him like a babe’s small hand reaches for its mother. The light traveled down the sides of his grey cheeks, lingering around his temples before settling thickly over his chest and down to where the spear lay exposed and raw, deeply clenched into his torso in a way that could only ever be painful.

 

Eir’s lips curled back in distaste for the wound’s terrible plunge. It was not fair--in any sense of the word. Loki was a skilled warrior, a trickster at heart and a powerful sorcerer everywhere else. Sure, he had committed his fair share of atrocities, but who in Asgard hadn’t?

 

He was a prince of Asgard, after all.

 

And maybe it was the unconditional love and appreciation Eir harbored for the youngster, but oh how she loved him like he was her own.

 

Having Loki mortally wounded was treason of the highest order, for that she knew for certain. If Loki’s enemy was still at large, he wouldn’t be for long--that, Eir could promise.

 

Her pale eyes looked longingly over Loki--the peacefulness of his closed green eyes rivaled in her the part of her that only wished the best for him. And how could she not? While Thor fought his battles and preparations for future wars, Loki chose his company to be with the healers and his books.

 

Loki would always be a studious pupil--taking piles of books out at a time from the library only to repeat the behavior again in the future to learn just how to perfect his magic. His perfectionism could one day be the death of him and the irony was not lost on the head healer. Loki’s hard work in his studies led to countless nights holed up in his bedroom trying to learn every shred of information he could get his hands on. He hid it well, but Eir knew he religiously engaged in such tasks to mask the pain and loneliness he felt from being all but exiled from the other Asgardians--namely Thor and his friends.

 

Eir would notice the stench of regret and envy anywhere, having had her own experiences with it as a child, much less on the prince she’d known since birth.

 

Loki was a gifted child, sensitive with a good heart. But he lived with deep chasms of pain. His declared war on Midgard could only attest to that. It may have been foolhardy for him to act out on such rages, yet Eir had always expected it was a series of actions done neither in Loki’s right state of mind nor in all of his own uniquely held intentions. She was nearly positive he had not acted alone in that circumstance.

 

She recalled to herself one particular instance after Loki’s banishment where she had surprised the prince with her eagerness to understand, her empathy and open arms as she’s asked him one question that had set his nerves on edge.

 

“Loki, my dear, who tortured you ever so?”

 

The shock on his face had sent a cold chill down her spine as she realized her words had been taken too literal of a manner--and anger seeped into her skin as the foreboding matter rang truer than she could have ever dared to imagine.

 

He’d been about to respond, having opened his mouth as his green orbs lay vulnerable and exposed when Hogun had come sauntering in, one too many drinks having been ingested in his system, as his right leg bled heavily.

 

Since then, Eir had understood the stark change in Loki’s demeanor. Her prince long lost and exiled had experienced a set of pain she could have only ever feared would lie in his wake. The others couldn’t possibly understand, not unless they had been through it themselves. Eir knew King Odin could, but his heart had gotten colder--as if he had been touched by a Frost Giant’s enclosed fist and Eir’s greatest fear was that his heart would never thaw for the sake of his youngest son.

 

All of this was to be swirling through Eir’s mind as she recited words to the spell she knew and had learned a century and a half ago.

 

And Eir could not help the pang of guilt and remorse that sliced through her chest at the possibility, the chance, that this cleanse, this removal, this nefarious hope for Loki was being performed at the highest cost.

 

For what if they rescued Loki from the very place he had found everlasting peace? What if they brought Loki back to a life he had no intention of living?

 

What if…what if Loki did not wish to be saved?

 

Eir gulped at the powerful pain at this thought.

 

What if they were all wrong?

 

What if Loki was okay where he was right now?

 

Was he even capable of a course of thought?

 

What if saving Loki was less for his sake and more for theirs? For the ones who would be left behind?

 

Eir did not know the beginning to the end of these striking questions. She didn’t know which was right versus which was wrong.

 

All she knew were the direct orders from her second prince. All she knew to do was to heal. And heal she would. Healing Loki was something she could make sure she did.

 

And so she would--hoping to herself that this wasn’t the wrong move and she was doing right by Loki rather than what was right for her peace of mind.

 

;/;

 

The haunted look of wars fought long and hard had returned to Thor’s line of vision.

 

Over and over his mind replayed the events that had taken place. He could practically _hear_ Loki’s exclaimed cry again in his mind as the enemy’s spear made a disturbing and sickening crunch-splush into his younger brother’s insides.

 

He imagined the way the light faded from Loki’s pure green eyes, the breaths that hitched and caught in his brother’s throat, the convulsions that wracked his body as he lay helpless and trembling--unable to control himself.

 

What was it like to die? Thor wondered in his mind.

 

Tears sprang to his blue eyed vision at the ridiculously cruel thought.

 

Did Loki suffer? Thor nearly gasped--of course he had! There was a **spear** inside his brother’s innards. How could that **not** be painful?

 

Oh, Loki! Thor’s head hung limply over his shoulders as the thoughts and memories of his brother swarmed his vision. How could he hope to go on living without his younger brother? Thor couldn’t hasten a thought to what life was like before Loki was sprung into it. They had been through **so** much together--so many triumphs and falls. How could Thor even begin to imagine a place, a **world,** without his little brother in it?

 

What would life be like as the only child?

 

How would Thor have been different without studious little Loki pining after him?

 

How could anyone ever dare to think that life would be better off without Loki?

 

Were these the kinds of thoughts that plagued the consciousness of his younger sibling?

 

How could Thor ever think it would be okay to let his eyes off of Loki? Loki was so young, so fragile.

 

Thor balked at the notion. No, Loki was different from Thor, yes, but so were most. Loki, instead, was stronger than the elder prince in ways only he could ever understand.

 

Loki was young, and in many ways, so was Thor. Thor had a lot of learning and maturing to do. Something he vowed to himself would come as his brother’s life and health would improve--because Loki just **had** to.

 

Again, Thor caught his wavering thoughts wondering how he would be different if Loki would have never come into being. So many details wouldn’t have added up, so many changes and holes would exist in the elder prince’s life if he ever had the unfortunate power to never have known his brother.

 

And yet, Loki was no longer the son many recognized him to be--then again, Thor would like to think he wasn’t either.

 

Life had jaded and hardened his little brother--in more ways than Thor could begin to comprehend.

 

Loki was never the same after Thor’s coronation, or during his banishment. To have sent the Destroyer out to kill his own sibling was one chip out of many on Loki’s shoulder.

 

Thor wondered to himself now if Loki’s true heritage revealed was the only cause to blame for his homicidal shift.

 

But if it wasn’t there that it had begun, it was certainly when Loki had let go at the Bifrost.

 

Thor reflexively clenched his teeth.

 

How could he have let Loki fall like that? How could he have been so naïve? So heartless?

 

But the big thought that really got to Thor was this: how could he not have known?

 

Not about Loki’s adoption status, but that Loki would have chosen the void rather than be reconciled with his parents and with Thor himself?

 

It was so obvious, so clear to Thor that Loki would have opted for the finality of the end--so much so that the thought alone, now, today, caused his throat to close up.

 

Would Loki still opt for it now? Today?

 

Or had enough time passed and changed him for the better?

 

Was Loki still ill sent against Thor and sentiment that he would rather risk his life than to swallow his pride?

 

Could Loki ever overcome hiding his vulnerabilities if it meant leading a happy life that he deserved?

 

Or was his brother destined to fail?

 

Could he? Could Loki ever truly fail in Thor’s eyes?

 

Because Thor doubted so. Loki could spend his entire life trying to prove he wasn’t able to measure up against Thor and Thor would spend the rest of his trying to show Loki that comparison of each other didn’t matter.

 

Thor loved Loki, unconditionally.

 

Nothing in all the nine realms would ever change that fact.

 

He would always love Loki and Loki, he hoped, would one day discover all the reasons why. He loved Loki’s intelligence, his wit, his charm. He loved Loki’s hard to win smiles, his green pearls for eyes, his tricks and his magic. He loved Loki’s intent to learn, to perform, to cherish those around him even despite how much he would deny others of that knowledge.

 

He just loved Loki.

 

A love he hoped and prayed to the Norns would finally, one day, be enough.

 

;/;

 

From afar, the King of Asgard watched his eldest son grapple with the loss that once lay within his very hands. Odin remained steadfast and stoic as tears traveled like streams down the warm sides of his son’s face.

 

Thor sat outside the healing chambers, on a lone wooden chair that had been inconspicuously left by some unknown being. His shoulders lay slumped forwards as sobs wracked his form.

 

Odin’s lip frowned involuntarily as he realized he would fail to enter the healing rooms without first addressing his first born. He sighed to himself inwardly as he slapped on a brave face to deal with the situation at hand.

 

“Thor,” he murmured lowly, but Thor’s shoulders neither stopped shaking nor had his head moved to acknowledge his king.

 

“Thor,” he repeated, louder this time.

 

Thor’s movements stilled suddenly as though a shock had been swept through his system. Slowly, he raised his head to look upon his father with bleary eyes.

 

“Come with me,” Odin cast an overarching arm to his side, trailing off as he expected his son to quickly move to follow him.

 

Instead, Thor remained seated, stubbornly.

 

“I--cannot leave him.” Thor said simply, choking out his reply.

 

“You can do nothing for him here,” Odin said, almost coldly.

 

Thor’s blue eyes flashed with unkempt anger.

 

“And you can?”

 

Odin blinked in mild surprise.

 

“I only mean, my son--” he began but Thor cut him off.

 

“No, I understand, father. Loki is not _your_ son, so why would you care to look after him?” Thor replied bitterly, eyes daring to challenge his father.

 

Odin paused for a moment, allowing his first son’s words to sink in.

 

“I have never acted well by Loki’s side, this is true. But as King of Asgard, I must recognize my limits in my powers. There is nothing I can do for your brother just as there is nothing you can do for him. In this plight, we are powerless.” Odin’s words washed over Thor like cold water from a fountain.

 

“I merely ask for your cooperation in explaining to me how this happened so that I can properly set aside my own harbored guilt and not play it out by hand to your brother as I have been known to do in the past. Thor, I ask of you this, how did this happen?”

 

Thor’s lip trembled shakily as more tears spilled from his eyes.

 

“Oh, father, I have little idea!” Thor’s voice rang shrill, cracking as more pained cries tore from his lips. “We were fighting so well against the Striken race when I heard Loki’s cry of pain from over my shoulder.” Thor barely cast a glance at Odin as his heartfelt declaration came exploding out of his lips. “This is my entire fault, father! I should never have let him come! I shouldn’t have--”

 

It was then that Thor decompensated into uncontrollable fits of tears.

 

Odin looked on with a duly pained expression on his lips and in his eye. He watched as Thor struggled and cried, reminiscent of how he once did as a young babe.

 

Before he realized what he was doing, Odin had placed a hand over Thor’s shoulder.

 

“It is all right, my son. It is over now.”

 

Thor immediately swung his eyes to his father in a horrified gesture.

 

“Wh-what?”

 

Odin shook his head. “A man’s hardest lesson is finding the strength inside to forgive themselves of their misdeeds.” He paused. “I know not if your brother will survive or in what state we will find him in, but you have my word that we will provide every safe haven imaginable for Loki here, in Asgard, and outside of it, too, if the need for it arises. We are a family that refuses to give up so easily.” Odin’s voice hardened at the words, strength and power causing his shoulders to rise and his back to straighten to instill some form of hope into his first born.

 

Thor, for what it was worth, managed as mall, sad smile.

 

“I hope Loki knows that.”

 

Odin nodded in encouragement as his retort slide easily from his lips, “He will.”

 

He will, indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original A/N: You know it’s been quite a while!! But the last last time I was in the hospital I legitimately wrote up like 4 new chapters for this particular fanfic, which is hella awesome!! 
> 
> Don’t forget to leave a review! I’d love to hear your thoughts <3 
> 
> This was handwritten 1/27 and 1/28/2018 and typed 3/12/18. Thank you for reading!!!
> 
> 12/28/2018 edit:  
> Added the fancy page breaks again. 
> 
> Present day of upload: 1/2/2019:  
> Hey peeps! It's been a while since I updated this story so here ya go! It's an old chapter as you can see from the original A/N, but it's something nonetheless. Here's hoping the Muse returns soon!! xxx


	5. Chapter 5

With a nearly shaking hand, Odin entered the healing rooms. Thor had insisted on accompanying him, more out of reflex than of need but Odin had managed to persuade him not to--helped significantly, of course, by Frigga’s frenzied presence as she took in Thor’s disheveled state, the snot and tears still fresh on his child-like face. Frigga had cast her gaze almost cruelly to Odin, uninhibited by the news of ill health to her second son that she didn’t protest when the malice laced through her stern and simple “Go.”

 

A word hadn’t carried such high stakes and heavy weight in nearly a century. Odin tried not to shiver at its implications for a heated argument later that very evening.

 

“Eir,” Odin called out to the darkened room as he peered behind the door to the casted golden glow of the magic working over Loki’s body.

 

Odin cringed internally considering his son no more than a body now. Where his mind rested no one could truly know. He hoped it was not of a place so pleasant that returning to this life would be a letdown.

 

Eir responded quickly to his address, hand rising over her breast as she bowed instantly.

 

“My king,” she said quietly, a deeply saddened expression filling her cheeks.

 

“How is he?” Odin dared to ask, eye sweeping over Loki’s heavy form.

 

“He has passed, my king,” Eir said quietly.

 

Odin didn’t miss the sheen in her eyes.

 

“What do you propose we do?” Odin asked, still watching over his son. A father’s worrying sense never ceased for his offspring.

 

“I have cast a healing enchantment. I must fetch supplies for a spell in Anaheim, and upon my return and its casting, we must remove the weapon.” She hesitated. “I fear there may be disastrous consequences upon its removal.”

 

Her eyes shone brightly in the amber hue.

 

“Then we must battle them when they come to be, not before.” Odin replies, his eye looking up to Eir.

 

“It may not work,” Eir warned, her words falling on his ears.

 

“I know,” Odin responded, gaze never wavering. “We will deal with that when it arrives, as well. Safe travels, Eir,” Odin’s gaze returned to Loki, settling uncertainly before he sealed his lips and headed for the door with a resounding grief tied to his breast.

 ;/;

 

No sooner did the king of Asgard leave did Eir prepare her beige hand woven satchel for her travels afar. Tears still dared to leave her eyes as she packed a few last bottles into her bag. Before she left the chambers, she sealed a light kiss over the sparkling glove above her young prince. She hoped he wouldn’t mind the affection, and bit back a cry at the notion that he could do nothing to protest. With that, she exited the chambers, noting that her elder prince was absent from the chair that had been left behind. Her heart skipped at the irony.

 

 _By the Norns, let this boy be healed,_ she couldn’t help but think to herself. She scurried off from the castle and into Anaheim in a true blur.

 

;/;

 

Shadows erupted from the hot rocks like children out at night searching for treats. In the darkness, Eir found comfort. She walked quickly and deliberately with purpose in each step. She knew her mission and how important it was. She had the king and queen of Asgard depending on her and she promised herself she would not disappoint.

 

As she approached the cavern she had been looking for, a secondary shadow eclipsed the light from the two moons above.

 

“Little lost m’lady?” It was a gruff voice and foreign to Eir’s ears.

 

She bristled at his tone and gathered her strength for a fight, if the need should arise.

 

“A tragedy has befallen Asgard.” She said it simply, matter of fact, but her voice betrayed the emotions that lay swirling underneath.

 

“One of the princes, then,” the voice cooed, amused.

 

Eir’s eyes narrowed instinctively.

 

“You must watch your tone, heathen. Princes of Asgard are royalty to whom which should be respected.”

 

A lilt formed on the voice. “You dare to question my honor?” The head raised a fraction, followed by the mystery man skipping around Eir and into view.

 

“You think too low of me, sister.”

 

Eir’s mouth dropped open in surprise.

 

“Azbirk, is that you?” Eir couldn’t recall the last time she had seen, let alone heard, her older sibling. They had been separated within the time of their young childhood and it had been centuries since their last encounter. A pang of grief of a newer kind blasted through Eir’s chest.

 

“Where have you been all this time? Here, in Anaheim?” Eir could barely keep away the twinge of betrayal from her tone. To think her older sibling could have sent a message of some kind to assure her not all was lost.

 

Azbirk merely smiled innocently at her words.

 

“I believe you have a mission to attend to.” Azbirk’s chin rose in challenge and Eir could have slapped him and herself for momentarily forgetting.

 

“I expect a word from you--no more than a hundred years from now,” Eir admonished, gaze fixing onto her elder sibling.

 

“You would do well to remind me--over a drink sometime, perhaps. Anaheim has golden statutes for mead. You know how forgetful I can be,” a smile sprang to Azbirk’s lips in tune to his chiding words.

 

“If you would falter to drink less you wouldn’t be so forgetful,” a small sparkle returned to Eir’s eyes at her words as her brother nodded to her simply.

 

“Go.”

 

Eir did not require more persuasion than that.

 

As she entered the cavern, a small bell chimed. At the counter a lazy feathered bird stirred. The bird stared almost dumbly at Eir before a sparkle entered her golden eyes and she squawked happily, “Eir! My old friend! What brings you here?”

 

“Nothing good, I’m afraid,” Eir’s words channeled chillingly into the air like a hushed whisper.

 

The sparkle in her friend’s eyes dulled instantly.

 

“What has happened?” she asked softly, feathers bristling.

 

“A tragedy,” Eir mentioned easily, then admonished, “to one of the princes.”

 

Her friend instantly squirmed and bent her head back.

 

“I fear that I have heard; a spear to the torso?” It wasn’t a hastened guess.

 

Eir blinked. “How did you know?”

 

Her friend’s eyes seemed to frown.

 

“A group of misfits clambered into town with boasting stories to tell and a half tone of mead.” Alesta paused. “I’ve witnessed similar injuries from their weapons. Their points are sharp as day and their aim often difficult to avoid. I’m surprised Thor would have lasted as long as he did.”

 

Eir’s mouth curled downwards.

 

“It wasn’t Thor who was wounded,” she managed to whisper.

 

Shock widened Alesta’s beady eyes. A feathered wing came to rest over her beak.

 

“No, Eir. You must be mistaken.”

 

Eir closed her eyes for a moment.

 

“I’ve seen it with my own two eyes, Alesta. It was Loki who had been targeted.” A shiver passed through her shoulders. She dared to ask the clawing question at her throat. “How many have you seen survive their weapons?”

 

Alesta’s eyes narrowed considerably. Her response was too soft to hear but Eir knew it confirmed her worst suspicions.

 

_No one._

 

“Then we must act quickly. You know the spell.” Eir stated, a false calm settling over her.

 

Alesta nodded easily, heading to the back shelves where she nudged a vial of lavender, sage, peppermint and a honey liquid into her wing.

 

Eir moved to the gold coins in her bag but Alesta’s free wing came to gently rest over her tan skin.

 

“Free of charge, my friend.” A twinkle of sadness lingered in her eyes. “Saving the boy will be your payment.” An unspoken promise filtered between the two women.

 

Eir would make sure of it, if it was the last thing she would do.

 

;/;

 

“The salve goes around the wound,” Eir instructed, hands clasping over Thor’s as he spread the sweet honey colored liquid gently around the spear still embedded in Loki’s flesh. “Coat it thickly,” Eir advised, motioning to Loki’s still form. “It will not harm him anymore and his body will take longer to absorb the salve.” Eir watched as Thor complied.

 

“Good, my prince. Now, place a leaf of sage under his tongue and a stick of lavender across his palms.”

 

Thor choked on a sob as he felt the damp coolness of his brother’s form. Loki’s jaw refused to open until Eir’s delicate fingers massaged the joints and it opened like a clasp.

 

It was true that Eir had more experience with both healing magic and the dead. Thor had very little--and working on his own brother with the guilt that threatened to take him down six feet under made it near impossible to hold down his lunch.

 

He pried open Loki’s cold, dead fingers and placed the lavender within his fists.

 

Thor gasped as the gold shield contracted violently. Eir’s hand urgently came to land on his shoulder.

 

“It is all right, my prince. It is said that magic mirrors life, it breathes as we breathe and it dies as we die.” Eir caught the horror flash across Thor’s cheeks. “Not in the same way as death, my prince. Loki is a wise sorcerer--his magic bests even his mother’s and it is a strong, resilient magic that will bring him back to us.” Eir hesitated for a moment. “We are doing everything we can; it will be up to Loki to fill in the rest.”

 

As Eir placed the sweet scent of peppermint over Loki, she could have sworn she heard Thor murmur, “That is my greatest fear.”

 

As the final mint was placed Eir’s eyes cast towards Loki as she turned to Thor and uttered her final phrase:

 

“It is time to remove the spear.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ORIGINAL A/N: 
> 
> Hey everyone, I’m back again! Severed is the most work I’ve done on a fanfic in a few months, so there will continue to be updates as the end of March rolls around. We lost power in the last noreaster so that kinda stole away my ability to type or upload, sorry about that! 
> 
> I hope that you enjoyed this chapter! I’ve had a lot of fun working with these characters and this plotline. The inspiration for Alesta was from the novel by Melissa Grey “The Girl At Midnight” (a really, really awesome trilogy that I still have to fully read through!). Let me know in a review how you think this story is progressing! 
> 
> I wrote this up back on January 28th and 29th of 2018 and typed it March 16, 2018. I proofread this on March 18th, and will be uploading it then, too. There were some issues with it yesterday which were totes annoying. I do not own these characters, just the plot bunnies! Thank you so much for everything!!! 
> 
> 12/28/18: Added page breaks again (update on AO3 & ff.net) 
> 
> Present day A/N: 1/6/19:
> 
> I don't know why but FF.net's been intolerable when it comes to the page breaks but hopefully I can figure out something for it soon and it'll take what I'm trying to do with it. We'll see though, (so in the future once and if I get it to work there the change will appear within this story too). 
> 
> But anywho, I have a new chapter I've done for this story now so I will be updating in the next week this story and a few of my other ones from FF.net so that we can all be finally up to date. 
> 
> Hope you're well!! xxx


	6. Chapter 6

Thor swallowed quickly, practically taking his own tongue down his throat.

 

“So soon?” he managed to bark out and Eir’s face shone with light understanding.

 

“It has been long enough, my prince,” Eir said soothingly, placing her hand over Thor’s in a sign of encouragement.

 

“Now, when I say pull you must pull forcefully and with purpose,” Eir’s gray eyes sparkled. “No hesitation, no unnecessary movement, just a straight, strong pull up--put you elbows into it and move back with your hips until his flesh is no longer impaled. Can you do this, Thor?” Eir’s serious gaze swung to the elder prince.

 

Thor, for what it was worth, had the gall to appear swarming with anxiety.

 

Was he ready for this? Was he ready for what was yet to come? Could Thor hold on--and, more importantly, could he let go?

 

Because maybe, just maybe, Loki wasn’t strong enough to pull through this--or maybe he wouldn’t want to.

 

Thor’s cerulean eyes filled with tears at that prospect, before he shoved aside his fears and doubts and set a determined, older brother look to the lines of his face.

 

“Okay,” he managed to say with strength radiating in his tone.

 

Eir smiled, again with encouragement.

 

“We will do our best, my prince. The rest is out of our control.”

 

Thor nearly huffed at this notion--this was the second time today someone had uttered such doubts in the air--let alone directed them at the elder prince.

 

“One…two…pull!”

 

Thor had enough time to take in his hands reflecting the golden light from the previous enchantment, the way Loki’s hardened face looked so calm and peaceful, Eir at his side murmuring soft words before the heaviness in the spear dislodged from his brother’s flesh and a sickening slurppp-plush resounded in the air.

 

Thor gagged as the smell of death streaked into the air and old blood slivered like maggots from the wound as Eir quickly refilled the gaping hole in Loki’s torso with the last of the honey liquid.

 

Thor unceremoniously dropped the heavy spear to the wayside as his eyes took in an unlikely sight.

 

Flesh streamed into flesh, forming interlocking combinations as muscles regrew and skin warmed to pink as arteries repaired themselves and the hole sizzled in a healthy pop. A medium sized oval scar remained, pink flesh shiny in the light as the skin’s lines and patterns could still be detected.

 

Silence lingered in the stale air.

 

\--Then, suddenly--a sharp inhalation that Thor could only ever dream of hearing again burst forth from Loki’s lips as his chest hungrily searched for the oxygen it had been without for hours.

 

Breath after breath came colliding into the room as Loki momentarily sputtered and coughed, shivers traveling through his system.

 

Thor wanted nothing more than to desperately hold his younger sibling again but he held back his prowess just barely as Eir’s hand had not wavered from its place above his chest.

 

A few minutes passed before the bright illuminance over Loki faded and the enchantments began to stray apart.

 

Interlocking fingers shriveled back into long hands and Loki’s breathing slowed nearly to a crawl.

 

Eir moved forwards first and hovered her hand above Loki’s heart.

 

“He is still healing,” she reminded softly, eyes closed as she assessed the damage wrought. “He will rest for the better part of tomorrow morning and then it is likely he will awaken.” Eir looked to Thor and smiled. “All is well again, my prince.”

 

Thor could do nothing to stop the excited, wordless yelp explode from his mouth as he caught Eir and other Asgardian warriors chuckling. He grasped Loki’s hands fervently as tears came unhinged from his eye sockets. He babbled a string of incoherencies as he held onto Loki’s living form again.

 

Loki was back--alive and safe.

 

And Thor would never let him go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original A/N:  
>  Hey everyone! Back with another update. Thank you so much for reading, and don’t forget to leave a review! I hope that you’re enjoying this story!! Thank you, again. Much love and light to you all. 
> 
> This chapter was handwritten January 29th.2018. I typed it up March 18th 2018. 
> 
> Present day A/N (1/7/19):
> 
> Hey peeps! This chapter was shorter than I remembered it being so I'll probably update this story again tonight and then work on getting up the rest of the chapters until we get to the current one I worked on on this past Sat up (there's 2 more chapters already ready to go from last year and the 9th chapter I just have to finish typing up from handwriting this past Sat 2019) I hope that makes sense! Oi. I think I deep dived too much lol. I think I'm getting a headache too, but really, I just need a pamprin XD 
> 
> Any who, hope you're all well!   
> Thinking of you all. & thanks for reading!!! xxxx


	7. Chapter 7

“Another!” Thor’s roar encircled the room as he threw his fists into the air as a hundred watt smile lit up his face.

 

The growing crowd in the banquet hall cheered feverishly in response.

 

Volstagg came sauntering over to the table inhabited by the elder prince, Sif and Hogun, his mead clasped tightly in one hand as the alcohol sloshed over the rim.

 

“Another ch-cheer for the migh-ty prince of As-gard,” Volstagg hiccupped ceremoniously as the mead splashed onto Thor’s right hand, the prince hardly noticing as another beer landed in his awaiting palm.

 

“Huzzah!” Thor exclaimed, choking back the drink as he smiled down the amber liquid. Between his teeth the alcohol seeped past, dribbling on his chin as the party buzzed to life.

 

Sif, who had yet to taste a single drop, leveled a hard look at her smiling friend.

 

“Thor,” she requested, brown eyes gazing over her prince.

 

When the aforementioned individual failed to acknowledge her, she asked again with a darker edge in her voice.

 

“Thor.”

 

Again her ears and eyes met no response.

 

“Thor!” Sif all but shouted.

 

“Why, Sif, there you are!” Thor’s drunken slur relinquished itself from his maw. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

 

Sif, for her part, wordlessly slung back her chair and disappeared from view. Before Thor could haphazardly return to drinking, Sif clamped a hand across his wrist and swung him up, rather easily, to his feet.

 

“A word, my prince,” she said gruffly, leading the way to a nearby isolated hallway. There, she whirled around on Thor so fast his head spun.

 

“What are you doing?” She asked matter-of-factly, her lips curling down in displeasure.

 

Thor blinked in confusion.

 

“What do you--?”

 

Before he could finish she cut him off.

 

“You’re abandoning Loki.”

 

It wasn’t a question and the accusation stung so intensely that he tore away from his drunken bliss and set an equally hard look back at his friend.

 

“What are you--?” He began again but Sif was having none of it.

 

“You--Thor--are abandoning your only brother to get drunk as he wastes away in an infirmary bed with no one by his side to tell him everything is going to be all right.” Sif paused, her arms wrapping around themselves as her silver armor shone in the low light. “What has happened to you, Thor?” Her voice held tightly to a note of disgust.

 

Thor’s mouth fell open in shock as he floundered like a fish. Before he could help himself he heard his own voice saying, “Someone has a crush, I see.”

 

Rage flashed through Sif’s eyes like lightning.

 

“How dare you!” Sif lightly shoved Thor aside, appearing as though she were about to storm off before she hurried back to Thor’s fallen side.

 

“I care about Loki, too, Thor. Your drunken stupor has misplaced that care for smitten love--to which I can only hope to deny. I love Loki only as you do. I was there, too, remember?” Hurt shined in her eyes. “I saw the spear go into his flesh. I saw the pain it inflicted. And whether you admit it or not, I know you did, too. Do not forget your place, my friend. Do not forget the roles we play and where your love has fallen to the side time and time again.”

 

Sif straightened her spine before helping Thor to his feet, albeit hastily.

 

“Loki is far more than a stolen relic but he has lost his way in this universe. I thought you were going to be the one to help him find his way back…Don’t prove me wrong.”

 

With that, Sif stormed off, leaving Thor behind sober and rattled to the core.

 

;/;

 

Sif’s words continued to play like a broken record inside of Thor’s head for the rest of the evening. Thor found himself traveling to his bedroom only to stare up at his ceiling for the better part of an hour.

 

It bothered him that his dear female friend thought so lowly of him, and he recognized at the same time that he hadn’t helped his case this evening by getting drunk.

 

But, he heard himself whine, it was part of the celebrations for Loki’s return to the land of the living. Granted, most of the guests there hadn’t known that but his friends had. Thor would never have been able to keep the news to himself. He didn’t even have the nerve within him to try--he was so happy radiating so much light that his friends had known from the start that things had gone through in a positive direction.

 

And, what nerve did Sif truly have to question his appearances or lack thereof? Anger gritted Thor’s teeth together as his friends and noble Sif had been nowhere in sight when Loki was in the infirmary. It was Thor who had taken the serious situation upon himself to be with Loki--or near enough that it mattered. Even his parents had visited Loki when his brother was no more than a pod of not-being.

 

If Sif wanted to question Thor’s loyalty, she would have to look in the mirror herself and sleep at night restlessly knowing that her statements were merely projections of her own guilt.

 

That’s what Thor settled his musings of the issue on. Sif was merely projecting her own harbored doubts and insecurities onto Thor in a way to get _him_ to sleep less at night.

 

While Thor did spend some time considering the matter, he made a promise to himself to let it go at once. He spun underneath his bedspread, putting out the nearby light as sleep encompassed him into a field of disturbing dreams.

 

;/;

 

Frigga, Queen of Asgard, held herself by her elbows as a worried frown settled upon her features.

 

“Did you know?” she asked softly, the wickedness no longer hidden as a sparkle in her eyes.

 

Odin sighed, feeling as though they had circled back to the start of this conversation.

 

“My love, you know I did not,” he answered, lips a thin line.

 

“Would you have done anything differently if you had?” Frigga’s knowing look stared back at him blankly.

 

“It does us no good to question these endless possibilities.”

 

Frigga’s frown deepened.

 

“He is our son,” Frigga murmured.

 

“I know,” Odin replied, hand reaching out to his wife.

 

She shivered.

  
“And yet you cast him out time and time again. This time would have been no different.” Frigga’s eyes cast upon her husband in quiet fury. “This situation is convenient for you, Odin. Just when you needed another reason to push Loki away, the universe has presented you with a sign of ill health.”

 

“…He is alive, my dear.”

 

“For how long? How long will you continue to push him away from us? He is not getting any younger, Odin, and these transgressions continue to scar his heart. Pretty soon we won’t be able to revive him, no matter what we do.”

 

“He will remain on Asgard until he no longer feels welcome,” Odin cast his eye over to Frigga. “I intend to make him feel welcome. I cannot take back my previous mistakes. I can only try to be better with how I handle him now. I only ask that you do the same, my love.”

 

Frigga huffed, uncharacteristically. “You know that I will.”

 

Odin came closer to his love, caressing his palm to her cheek.

 

“I love you.”

 

“And I, you.”

 

They hugged each other knowing they were each other’s world in the galaxy of their son’s eyes.

 

;/;

 

Thor rested his chin on his reddened knuckles, eyes blearily shutting open and closed as the lack of well-rested sleep hung on his shoulders.

 

He tried his best to stay awake as his eyes would wander, close, and then open again to focus in on his brother’s form. Thor felt restless waiting for Loki’s eyes to open and his expressive face to become animated. Oh, how Thor begged the heavens above to allow him and his brother time again to think, feel and engage in consciousness. Thor felt his impatience grow immensely at the thought, reminding him of how he would get as a child when Loki refused to answer his questions point blank. The energy would build and build like an antsy fire inside his chest, threatening to burst forth as a force to be reckoned with and Loki would gaze upon him with a smirk and knowing look before finally, finally being honest.

 

Thor couldn’t help but sigh now, the love for his brother re-emerging within him as his attention reflexively returned to Loki. It was good timing too, because, of course, Loki picked that moment to shift his breath.

 

Thor’s eyes widened at the prospect.

 

Loki’s breath sharply went in, paused, and then released in a huff.

 

Green eyes flicked right and left underneath heavy lids.

 

Thor’s own breath hitched, wonder embracing him as he waited anxiously.

 

A flick, a flutter of eyelashes appeared and then the skin parted like a receding wave.

 

Green irises blinked then blinked again. They took in the golden ceiling and Thor witnessed the moment of familiarity as the eyes widened in sudden surprise.

 

Quickly the eyes panned down to their left, finding their older brother’s blue ones holding theirs steadily.

 

“Loki,” Thor croaked softly, a mixture of a flinch and worried pain conflicting his features.

 

“Thor?” Loki returned in reply. Questions lingered on his lips but none formed into words.

 

Thor, as usual, tried to help. “Do you remember what happened?”

 

Loki’s lips twitched into a frown.

 

“I remember lots of pain…Hurting…What happened?”

 

Loki’s honesty and forthcoming nature surprised Thor.

 

He shifted uncomfortably. “You were injured in battle.” Thor’s expression of concern for Loki deepened. “The enemy impaled you with one of their weapons.” Thor took conscious effort to speak slowly to his brother, unaware of how quickly Loki would be able to process new information.

 

Loki’s eyes momentarily wandered yet for the most part they remained focused on Thor.

 

This was new territory for the both of them.

 

“You passed for a time. After you were hit we brought you back to Asgard, and Eir traveled to Anaheim to get supplies for a resurrecting enchantment.”

 

Loki rolled his eyes. “You mean a healing enchantment.”

 

“What?” Thor looked back at Loki, dumbfounded.

 

“A healing enchantment. There’s no such thing as a resurrection enchantment. Regardless, continue,” Loki smiled then and Thor felt his heart skip a beat as the absurdity of the moment and everything that had happened fell upon him.

 

“I feared you wouldn’t return to us. Father did too, and mother of course.” Thor paused, eyes gazing over at Loki. “I am so happy you are alive, Loki. I love you so much and my life would have been so very different without you. I am grateful that that type of predicament is no longer likely.” Thor squeezed Loki’s warmer forearm. He couldn’t help but look over Loki again, so much pride and happiness striking him in that moment.

 

“Would you like to be left alone for a while?” Thor asked, thinking Loki would probably like to read a good book and would probably get fed up with Thor’s constant staring.

 

“I would like to speak with Eir, if you don’t mind.” Loki said slowly.

 

Thor smiled. “Of course I don’t mind.”

 

Thor turned to leave and as he did, he couldn’t help to rest a hand on Loki’s knee, squeezing lightly.

 

Thor continued to leave but glanced back at Loki one last time and found Loki lying with his head up looking utterly horrified.

 

Thor halted immediately, an aghast expression appearing.

 

“What’s wrong?” Thor asked quickly, thoughts racing through his head of newly developed issues.

 

“Your--your hand.” Loki pointed to his legs. “Put your hand back there.”

 

Thor, eyebrow rising, did as strangely complied. His hand lay down on Loki’s leg again.

 

Immediately Loki’s head slammed back onto the bed in defeat.

 

“I can’t feel my legs, Thor.”

 

A rush of cold slammed through Thor’s nervous system.

 

A look of betrayal filled like contempt in Loki’s face.

 

“I cannot feel my damn legs, Thor. What have you done?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original A/N: Hey everyone!! Welcome back to YET ANOTHER update! :D I am absolutely falling incredibly in love with this story, actually, and it feels so, so, soooo great and wonderful. I can’t wait for what I have in store for you guys! Just as a reminder, this is an “Avengers” fanfic for a REASON. 
> 
> It’s gonna be a while before we get to that part (maybe like 10 chapters?) and I promise you that if you follow along it will be worth reading and quite interesting. I hope that you’re enjoying it so far!! I read out this chapter aloud to my Mom and she offered me some great tips and some awesome FUTURE hilarious scenes for comedic relief to balance out all the dark, twisty and seriousness. So, stay tuned for me incorporating that into the story!
> 
> Lastly, my Mom summed up this fanfic easily by saying that “this story is a true reflection of life and how we have to learn to cope with situations that we didn’t expect ourselves to land in. It’s a story about rediscovery, rebirth, growth and learning that there are ways to still accomplish our dreams just in a different way than before.” You will actually see this as a future reference that I’m going to incorporate into the story because I thought of a hilarious Loki - Tony Stark moment from this, ahahaha. I can’t wait for us to get there together. Thank you all soooo much for reading!! Let me know what you think in a little review! 
> 
> Handwritten dates: 1.29, 3.12, 3.19, 3.21  
> Typed: 3.22, 323.18 
> 
> Jan. 7. 2019 A/N:
> 
> Awww, I'm pretty sure I wrote down the inspired scenes and quotes in mind and I so can't wait to re-discover them all over again later! This chapter is definitely lengthier than the previous one, and after the 8th one, we will be all caught up!  
> Let me know what you thought of it in a comment! And if you have any fancy songs you've been listening to lately because I'm getting kind of bored with the ones at my disposal right now, or if you have a request, let me know that too! :) Stay safe. xxx


	8. Chapter 8

A swirling pool of anxieties filled Thor’s chest like butterflies wings were batting around in his ribcage. He could feel the tips of their wings grazing his muscles and more than once he had to cough to clear his throat.

 

The whole royal family was now crowded into the healing rooms. Thor was by Loki’s left, Frigga to Thor’s right, Odin to Loki’s right, Eir at the foot of the bed and an uncertain, anxious healer standing by Eir’s right as she gazed upon the floor with her bottom lip quivering. Thor fought back the urge to slap her so she would finally look up at them.

 

It wasn’t right--none of this was right. The situation was so fucked up that Thor wanted to cry and Loki’s face had a pseudo calm expression that caused another round of chills to flow through Thor.

 

 _What_ was going on?

 

“My prince, tell me again what you feel.” Eir whispered, worry in her tone appearing like sunlight through branches.

 

“I don’t feel anything.” Loki’s eyes shone and Thor realized it was well-hidden rage that lurked behind Loki’s irises.

 

“You do not feel this?” Eir asked, grazing Loki’s foot.

 

Loki didn’t move an inch.

 

“No.”

 

“But this you can?” Eir trailed her tan fingers along Loki’s forearm.

 

“Yes.”

 

Eir stood back with a soft huff.

 

“Paralysis. The spear must have injured the spinal column. It must have gone in deeper than we thought.” Eir surmised with each pale eye landing on every party.

 

Thor blinked. “But, it will go away, right?”

 

Loki laughed humorlessly.

 

“Oh, but _of course_ , Thor. Just like your arm would grow back if I cut it off,” Loki leveled a glare in Thor’s direction.

 

Thor, for what it was worth, only fidgeted slightly.

 

“It isn’t temporary?” Thor asked again. It wasn’t so much that he wanted clarification but that he **required** it.

 

Eir smiled sadly on him, taking slight pity on Thor.

 

“I fear an injury like this is likely permanent.”

 

“Permanent.” Loki snarled, eyes watering intensely. “Did you hear that, _Thor?_ Did you hear how this is all your fault?”

 

Thor began to protest.

 

“Ohohoho, no, you do not get the _privilege_ to argue blame here. It was you who wanted to go into battle, you who didn’t have my backside and you who dragged me back from Valhalla to live a life in this wicked, hellish nightmare. To suggest that I hate you is an understatement. I **despise** you, Thor. If I could walk over there and wring your neck, I would. How exactly did you think this was going to play out for me, _Thor_?” 

 

Loki’s words felt like acid dribbling into Thor’s ears. They stung and were painful and Thor desperately tried to remind himself that it was merely Loki’s rage talking.

 

“I didn’t _force_ you into coming with me,” Thor knew it sounded petty as the words left his mouth. And the snarl evident on Loki’s features was a pointed indication that it was the wrong thing to say.

 

“Oh, you may not have forced me but you sure as hell didn’t stop me from tagging along.” Loki sent a glare in Thor’s direction.

 

Petulant that things weren’t going well, Thor found himself protesting. “I had no idea this would happen--”

 

Loki cut him off. “You said it yourself that you didn’t know what would happen if you were able to bring me back. I have to say, I don’t understand the confusion of your position and how you can’t admit your place of blame in this situation. If you had just left me to die I wouldn’t be in this mess.” Loki turned his head away, closed his eyes and sighed.

 

“Please, go.” He murmured quietly. “All of you,” he clarified, eyes reopening to share the briefest flickers of pain. “Except Eir.” He closed his green eyes again.

 

It took a moment before the royal family began to use their muscles to move away. Before Thor’s blue eyes left Loki’s he found anguish blossoming in his chest with the butterflies’ descent as he saw the quiet tears roll down Loki’s cheeks. Thor swallowed reflexively.

 

_What **had** he done? _

 

;/;

 

Thor found himself craving a drink of mead as he stared blankly ahead watching but not truly seeing mother and father arguing in the large room they were situated in. Thor blinked slowly as his eyes adjusted to the scene. Father had his hands curled into fists as he paced amiably back and forth, his golden robes swirling around his clothed feet. Mother rested against a large red coach, her hand beneath her chin as her eyes gazed upon the hardwood floor. A mixture of sadness and anxiety pooled in her irises as she softly murmured, “How might we proceed?”

 

Odin blinked, stopping in his tracks. “We stay by his side until he casts us out.” His eye looked steadily over at Frigga; her lips deepened into a frown.

 

“And how do you propose we do that?”

 

“We remain with him and offer comfort until he pushes us away--and, even then, we come back time and time again. We must not give up on him, not in this condition.” Odin’s lips hardened into a mock smile.

 

Heaviness descended upon the room.

 

How did father propose we offer aid to Loki if Loki hated our every move?

 

“There must be something we can do,” Thor mumbled out, shocked to hear his voice in the air as if he never meant to speak again.

 

Two pairs of eyes swiveled to his as if they had forgotten he was even there.

 

“We will not give up on your brother.” Frigga adamantly declared.

 

“Not this time,” Thor quipped, a look of hurt settling on his cheeks as he looked pointedly on his parents.

 

“We have failed Loki too many times before this--and our reasons were meager and petty at best. If any of us dare to abandon him now, I fear in this condition that he will not survive. We must not let him go, under any circumstance. Do I have your word?” Thor had answered them so diplomatically and evenly said that surprise flitted across his parents faces. Thor felt a trickle of pride at the notion and felt for the first time that Sif’s words were founded in faith rather than mistrust.

 

Thor would show Sif that he had heard her words and show Loki that this time would be different because…it **had** to be. They were a family and it was about time that they showed it to each other.

 

;/;

 

Back in the healing rooms, Loki pushed his black hair back with his curled fingers. He made a gruff, muffled sound of impatience and gritted his teeth until his jaw ached. He couldn’t help it but to explode on Eir his frustrations and utter nonsense. His pain reflected in his words as he cried out and his shoulders shook.

 

“Why did this happen? Who is the son of a bitch that did this to me? Why--Why **me**?” Tears stung Loki’s eyes as he stared up at the golden ceiling. “What did I do to deserve this blasted fate? This is all Thor’s fault. This is all everyone else’s fault. I didn’t do anything. I didn’t want this! I don’t want it! What did you all do to me? Why did you have to bring me back?” Loki hiccupped. “I don’t want to live like this, Eir. What kind of life can I possibly lead like this? Chained to a bed, unable to walk? Only capable of breathing and wasting away until there’s nothing left of me to give to the universe. I **can’t,** Eir, don’t you understand? I **cannot**.” Loki slumped back onto the pillows, having exhausted himself of his chaotic emotions and finally gathered the courage left in him to look upon Eir.

 

Eir took a deep breath. “I am so sorry, my prince.” Soundless tears streaked down her rounded cheeks. “Had we known this would be the outcome…” she trailed off, looking sadly on her young pupil. “I do not know why this has been done to you and I do not know by whom. If I had the answer, I would tell you, my prince…There are no easy answers for the situation upon us.” She paused. “Please, my prince, try to be good to those around you. We only wish to help.”

 

Loki spat angrily. “You all would have helped me if you had been smart enough to let me die!” He gazed over at Eir and cringed outwardly. “I….am sorry, Eir. I do not wish to take this out on you.”

 

“Thor does not deserve it either, my prince.” She tilted her head. “You are allowed your emotions, Loki, and your brother his. Fighting this circumstance may do you more harm than good. Acceptance is a powerful wave. You would do best for yourself to learn how to incorporate it into your life.”

 

Eir turned to leave, but hesitated for a moment. “Do you wish to read about the healing enchantment I performed?”

 

Loki nodded mutely.

 

Eir smiled--although it was less of a smile and more of a soft upturn of her lips--and handed the thin book to her prince.

 

“Sleep well, Loki. You require further rest.” With that, she turned and left Loki to his thoughts.

 

;/;

 

Green eyes hungrily took up the words scrawled on the old auburn pages but by the time Loki finished the book, he realized he hadn’t paid any attention to what the words had actually been saying. Loki sighed, tossing the book onto a nearby pull-out table without a second thought.

 

He pressed his palms into his eyelids until his vision spotted with green, blue and red dots.

 

 **What** was he going to do?

 

Could he even feasibly survive this torture called life? And what was the point, really? Why should he bother surviving if the next few months were going to deplete every ounce of strength left in him and he was just going to die anyways? Why not just speed up the process?

 

He laughed, there would be no way Thor or mother would be on board to that idea.

 

…He was stuck, frozen, trapped. There was no where he could go, no place was safe for him and how would he even _get_ there? He couldn’t walk. Like, one foot in front of the other kind of walk. His life would be confined to a bed, having to rely on others to care for him, unable to live independently and having to ask for help.

 

Loki, by **definition** , did not ask for help. He couldn’t--wouldn’t. He held too much pride in his bosom and would normally scoff at the notion of being so…useless to not just his own awareness but displaying such weakness to others as well.

 

Loki would rather die than have to ask for help. Not only would that be the case but now people in Asgard would look to him with pity in their eyes. Loki shifted uncomfortably in the bed, his mind immediately telling him that their looks of pity would be worse than their lack of awareness of his existence.

 

Loki didn’t do being vulnerable--not about his thoughts, not about his emotions and definitely not now when he was completely and utterly vulnerable to any violent attack on his person. He couldn’t even run away now if someone broke into the palace and wished him dead.

 

What could he possibly do? How were he of any service to his family and the people of Asgard now? Not only did he not belong before but now he would never. Asgardians were able-bodied demigods--they didn’t fall ill to colds, they were blocks of steel and they certainly didn’t deal with permanent, life altering injuries like Loki’s. The few Asgardians who were born with congenital defects were upon the lowest rung of the ladder. They often could not work and were even below servants in that regard. Loki couldn’t recall in the last century someone of high caliber who was born into life with the short stick. They were most likely hidden away into the dungeons of Asgard because their physical deformities led them to acts of crime. They were treated as sub-Asgardians and they were being discarded and forgotten about by all.

 

Would the same occur to Loki? Yes, Loki was royalty but royalty could only get you so far. Besides, of course Loki would find himself in this predicament--when did things ever go right for him? He was not born in Asgard; he was for better parts grown up under a lie from his family and treated as lesser than discreetly by all those he came into contact with. He killed his real father, tried killing Thor, nearly laid waste to Jotunheim, fell from the Biforst, was tortured by the Chitauri, attempted to conquer Midgard and failed miserably and now, two years later, here he was on a bed in the healing rooms paralyzed from the waist down.

 

Loki laughed--he was not dealt the short stick but rather no stick at all.

 

He released a long breath and his eyes drifted toward the strong pools of light escaping from the nearest window. It was likely noon or past that, and Loki decided that Eir was right, he could use the rest and the escapism that sleep would offer him. He could worry about everything else later; he’d still be alive to, anyways. He felt almost peaceful as the hand of sleep traveled through him, bringing him into sweet, sweet oblivion.

 

;/;

 

“Loki.”

 

A thick finger poked at the clothing around his shoulder.

 

“Loki.”

 

“Mmmph.”

 

A hand flown outwardly from under the blankets at their offending onslaught but instead, the warm receiving hand clasped itself around Loki’s wrist.

 

His eyes sprang open in surprise as he tugged instinctually back on his arm. The creature only persisted, tightening their grasp on his offered limb.

 

Loki cried out softly.

 

He was about to offer an apology as the traumatic memories flashed before him until he realized in awe that the creature was Thor.

 

“You’re back.” Loki tried to keep the pleasure of this encounter in the back of his throat but he caught the way Thor’s smile shone and knew he had failed yet again.

 

“I brought you food,” Thor lifted his left arm, a platter of delights such as meat, crackers, cheese and vegetables ran the length of the rectangular dish.

 

“I’m not hungry.” He lied, of course. Thor seemed to know this, too.

 

“You haven’t eaten anything since you’ve been back. Besides, this is _dinner_. Eir wouldn’t let me visit any earlier. She said you needed your rest--and I knew it, too.”

 

“So why did you wake me?” Loki asked with a sliver of his old self re-emerging.

 

“I got bored,” Thor replied honestly and a light beamed inside his soul when Loki genuinely laughed.

 

“You would, too.” Loki replied, continuing to chuckle.

 

Thor gazed at his brother with such fondness and admiration. “We’re going to do right by you, brother.”

 

“Like you have before?” Loki grumbled, green eyes piercing Thor’s.

 

Thor smiled sadly. “I know mother and father, nor do I, have had past experience showing you this, Loki. But we’re going to do right by you now. You need it and you deserve it.”

 

“You don’t know what I need,” Loki’s brows furrowed in frustration. “I need to be able to walk. I need my legs, Thor. I need to be able to live and not be a burden onto those around me. What I need is freedom. I won’t find it in this life--not anymore.” Loki’s gaze hardened at his words. “Do you understand me, Thor?”

 

Thor looked back at his brother intently. He mouthed unshapen words before saying, “No, I don’t. But if you teach me, I can learn.”

 

Loki sighed, tossing Thor a pitying look.

 

“You are hopeless.”

 

“We can be hopeless, together.”

 

Loki was about to retort when he remembered Eir’s words of advice. _Acceptance is a powerful wave_. Loki didn’t understand Thor’s position just as Thor didn’t understand Loki’s. And if Thor was willing to learn on behalf of mother and father that meant they were doing something differently than ever before. It meant that they were trying and maybe, maybe that meant everything.

 

Without thinking, Loki plucked a square of cheese from Thor’s platter and tossed it in his mouth.

 

“Mmm, cheese.”

 

And for the first time in a long time the brother’s shared a resounding laugh.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original A/N:
> 
> Heyyyy, everyone!! Welcome back! I hope that you are enjoying this story--I’m getting SO into it and I love every bit of it! You’ll probably see me repeat phrases or words a lot in my stories, so if you ever have word suggestions feel free to leave them in the review section or in a PM! I hope this chapter has delivered you more information and detail in terms of the overall plot. It’s been a long time since I wrote in filler details in my stories and I’m hopeful that it’s creating a more well-rounded representation. I have more comedic relief in store and Loki’s angst in this story rivals that of “Distorted and Disordered”! I fell into writer’s block in the last 2 weeks and have officially broken it when I handwrote the majority of this chapter! Any who, that’s enough from me! Hope you enjoyed and please leave a review! While there will be nothing explicit I will be adding a trigger warning to a couple future chapters in regards to suicidality. Stay safe, readers!! <3 
> 
> Handwritten dates: 3/21, 3/23, 3/26, 3/29, 4/6  
> Typed dates: 4/6, 4/7.2018 
> 
> 1/7/19: Page breaks. 
> 
> Present Day 1/7/19 A/N:
> 
> Hey guys! I know you've gotten quite a full of Severed today, but I wanted to just get this all up to date as I just finished typing up the 9th chapter and I'm about to publish it on FF.net and figured we could all get caught up together on both websites. :) So, that's why!   
> Next, will be ALU!! :)   
> Let me know what you think in the comments! xxx


	9. Chapter 9

Trigger warning: Suicidal themes.

 

“You will not.”

 

“Loki, you are my brother, of course I will. Without a doubt in my breast, I will do it for you.”

 

“No, Thor, you **will** not. This isn’t trepidation or reluctance on my part. This is and only ever will be that if you so much as **dare** to lift me up off this bed and to the nearest bath that I, without a **doubt** , will stab you in the torso. That is final. Don’t make me say it again.” Loki looked pointedly at his brother with a deep seeded glare aimed in his direction.

 

Thor, to Loki’s annoyance, didn’t so much as flinch; instead, he had the audacity to appear even more optimistic.

 

“Brother, and I say this kindly, but you reek. You’ve been in this bed for twenty-two days. Don’t you think it’s time for you to get up and walk around the castle?”

 

“With **what** legs, Thor? Pray tell me, how **exactly** am I to get up and walk around the castle? I do not have working legs anymore, Thor, so until you find me new ones, I will remain in this bed until the day I die.” Loki huffed and folded his arms across his chest in pure utter defiance.

 

Thor slumped visibly. “It was merely a wrong set of words,” he grumbled then picked up his chin. “I will not give up on you, brother. I can help you, I know that I can. Please, all I ask is that you let me show you.” Thor whimpered softly, eagerness readable in his eyes.

 

Loki, for his part, considered it for a half a second. Thor wasn’t wrong entirely, the younger prince did smell pretty bad and his hair was slick with grease and oils. Loki would do well with a bath, but he wasn’t about to admit that to Thor. So, just as he planned, he opened his mouth to tell Thor just this but found himself yelping unexpectedly.

 

“No! No, Thor! Stop! Stop!” Loki exclaimed adamantly as his older sibling shoved his meaty hands under his legs and at the small of his back.

 

By the time Loki was thrusting punches into Thor’s chest, still yelling in protest, Thor had already made it past two doors set away from the healing rooms.

 

“Put me down! Thor. Put me down, now!” Loki’s cheeks reddened as the embarrassment of his current situation sunk in.

 

How many people would see him being cradled in his brother’s arms like a babe? How many pairs of eyes would cast judgments his way either verbally or quietly whispered?

 

By the Norns, the hidden and well concealed judgment and pitying looks from fellow Asgardians felt worse than being paralyzed from the waist down. At least within the healing chambers Loki had been far apart, disillusioned and disengaged from the prowling eyes of other curious Asgardians.

 

Loki knew he wasn’t welcome, well-liked or popular with many of the realm’s citizens and again fear clung to his throat at the possible enemy attacks that could end Loki’s life.

 

Despite how much Loki wanted this torture to be over, he was still afraid to die on someone else’s terms. At least in the healing rooms he was trapped, confined in tight quarters and ultimately safe from intruders and maniacs seeking revenge.

 

Out in the open, however?

 

Loki would be lucky if he didn’t get an arrow lodged in his Adam’s apple or for Thor to trip up the stairs causing the trickster to go flying out of his grasp.

 

By this point, Thor was nearing their living quarters--or well, Loki’s old ones--which meant that Loki was exhausted and settled into a quiet sense of displeasure.

 

“I really hate you, Thor,” Loki whispered half-heartedly. He knew what his elder sibling was doing was in his best interests, but it didn’t mean he liked it any more.

 

Thor, for his part, did his best to shrug it off.

 

“I love you, Loki,” he said in a wisp of an exhalation. “I always will.”

 

Loki either didn’t really hear him or tried not to.

 

When they got to the bathroom Thor found himself hesitating.

 

“Something the matter, Thor?” Loki asked through tightly clenched teeth.

 

“Yes, um, have you--has Eir aided you in the, uh, excretion matters?” Thor looked everywhere else but at his brother.

 

A blush rose onto Loki’s cheeks.

 

“If you’re asking if I’ve urinated in the last twenty-two days I’m going to have to cut you.”

 

Thor’s mouth fell open in shock. “It’s a genuine question, brother!”

 

“One you’ve no doubt made incredibly awkward,” Loki looked to Thor disdainfully. “Are you regretting carrying me now?”

 

Thor frowned. “No, and you’ve still avoided the question.”

 

“Well, you should,” Loki insisted, rolling his eyes dramatically then looking away with distaste. “Eir and I have not found easy solutions to deal with urinating and shitting. It’s, we’re finding, an imperfect science. It’s been hit or miss many times so far.” He looked down again, avoiding the confusion in Thor’s blue eyes.

 

“You don’t mean--” he began but trailed off uncertainly.

 

Loki’s face turned green for a moment and he sighed, hands rising to his face to hide his emotional expression.

 

“Yes, Thor, I have soiled myself a few times in the last month. There, I said it. Can you let me down now?”

 

Thor hesitated once more.

 

“Are you certain you don’t need to use the toilet?” He bit his lip with worry, as if fearing Loki’s wrath.

 

Loki sighed. “That’s the issue, Thor. I can’t tell when I need to go yet. I’m trying to learn but forgive me for not doing this on your schedule.”

 

It was slightly rude but also fairer than he had intended.

 

Thor, wisely for once, decided to drop the conversation there.

 

 _We must choose our battles wisely,_ he thought before striding forwards with Loki still in his arms and gently lowering him into the bath.

 

“I need to help you out of your clothing,” Thor stated softly, open hands hovering over his younger sibling’s form. “Will you allow me this?” he asked calmly, having every intention to only do as Loki agrees (the irony not escaping him).

 

Loki swallowed roughly, wanting to protest while also wanting to just get this over with. He nodded solemnly.

 

“Okay,” Thor agreed, moving to help Loki with removing his shirt.

 

Loki groaned instantly.

 

“My arms are not immobile, Thor,” he chastised, lifting up the bottom of his shirt over his head and pulling out his arms. He tossed the garment unceremoniously to the side of the bath.

 

Next, Thor shifted to pulling off Loki’s pants one leg at a time and pausing only briefly at Loki’s undergarments.

 

“Would you rather I--?” Thor began but Loki only sent Thor an ‘if you dare to I will kill you’ stare. Thor huffed in understanding and set aside Loki’s pants to turn on the bathwater. The elder sibling knew Loki preferred a cooler bath than he so he set the knobs to cool rather than at a heat he would melt at.

 

Loki, it seemed, was pleasantly surprised by Thor’s consideration and Thor won a smile he was proud to have achieved.

 

When the water was up to Loki’s biceps, Thor shifted forward and set them off. Next, he lathered up the dispenser of soap--knowing Loki was not fond of the bars of soap, ever since he was a child he would complain of the rashes it gave him--and began to clean the dirt and grime from his thin legs.

 

Thor offered his sibling the dispenser so that Loki could scrub at his own torso and arms and a thin lipped grimace was all that he received.

 

They set to work together in silence to clean and bathe Loki and the younger brother smiled genuinely again when he was able to apply the shampoo to his hair and the pleasant scent reminded him of better days and carefree nights.

 

It was somewhat painful and difficult to return to such memories because of the weight his present state carried him in.

 

Oh, how he had started to forget and miss where two working legs left him. He could have walked along the beach more, climbed trees more, walked the halls of the library and spar with Thor’s friends more.

 

It was all more, more and more things he felt he’d never be able to do again.

 

He had lost not only his legs but his independence and the security of his world by some unknown assailant that for all intents and purposes may still wish him dead and may one day come to finish the job.

 

His life was a revolving circle of losing things: his identity, his mind, his family, his life, his legs, his safety and so on.

 

Why couldn’t he have nice things?

 

Why couldn’t it have been Thor or the Warriors Three?

 

Why was it **him**?

 

What had he done to deserve this fate?

 

Loki couldn’t figure it out. He hadn’t been able to figure it out for the last twenty-two days. Where would his future take him? Did he even have one at all? And why did it matter so much to him to still live to see the day where he could live happily--if not again than for the first time in his life?

 

Why did Loki have hope in a better day so much so that the letdown and despair felt all the more worse by the second? Because no better day had come for him yet so how was he to expect that one day in the future it would?

 

Loki’s life felt like a series of broken promises and mistruths that he just couldn’t stand it. The urge to yell and scream and take out his pain on others was so overwhelming it felt impossible to ignore. The energy ballooned upwards from his belly, clawing at his throat for him to release it in a loud yell but his lips remained firm and tight, not allowing himself to show such emotion within the vicinity of Thor.

 

He had to hold it together around his not-family because he couldn’t stand twelve more seconds of their worrying gazes and unmasked enthusiasm at the obsolete victories he made each day.

 

_“Oh, you sat up today? Great job, Loki!”_

_“Oh, you pissed in a bucket? Awesome, Loki!”_

_“Wow, you’re so brave, Loki! Look at you go!”_

 

It was pathetic and miniscule.

 

It killed his ears and made him hate himself just that little bit more.

 

It didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things.

 

And he didn’t understand why he should care about these events at all.

 

It wasn’t like he was going to magically get up and walk again.

 

…..No matter how much he wished for it so.

 

The reality was that Loki was bedbound--permanently.

 

Pretty soon Thor would be on his own again, walking away from him as per usual and off to trot along to some other mission or war where he could use **his** damn legs and save the day for some other helpless creature, even if that wasn’t his own brother.

 

What more could Loki feasibly ask for and expect?

 

Loki was no more now than a disabled stolen relic of no use to anyone around him. He couldn’t expect Thor or any of his other not family members to be there for him through thick and thin, through all the wide-ranging emotions that split his skull in two.

 

They didn’t even **know** half the time that he spent it thinking of ways to end his misery. And he wasn’t expecting them to catch onto this any time soon.

 

It would be his decision, he reasoned. Only his. Unlike how this whole thing had started. There would be no warning, no trepidation, he thought, just a single action and poof, he’d be gone to the sweet paradise of Valhalla, never to be seen of again.

 

Only in death would he find freedom and only in death would his not family be unburdened by his limited mobility any longer.

 

A deep frown had found its way onto his facial features but he tried to mask it as much as he could when he caught Thor looking at him.

 

“What?” he asked in a clipped tone, silently mocking himself for allowing so much emotion into his voice.

 

Thor frowned, sadly. He hesitated but then said, “I really do love you, brother. I know times are not easy right now and we don’t know why this has happened, but… even if it’s selfish to say, I’m glad that you are here with us again. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

 

Emotion rose to Thor’s cerulean eyes as he looked at his younger sibling with unfathomed grief and care.

 

Loki bit his tongue to stop the warmth in his chest from betraying him as if Thor had been reading his mind. How was it that the oaf had managed to see everything Loki was not, yet also recognize his worth and that someone in his family still loved him?

 

He bit back a sob and muttered, “Yes, it is selfish.”

 

But he left it at that.

 

He didn’t tell Thor how much he wanted to die; he didn’t tell Thor about how afraid he was that some masked figure would waltz his way into Loki’s cot in the healing chambers and slay him where he lay; he didn’t tell Thor about how he begged the Norns to take him away each night or how he would pound his small fists into his legs over and over hoping one day, one moment, he would feel **something** again. He didn’t tell Thor any of it. He didn’t tell Eir how much he wishes the healing enchantment hadn’t worked to save his life; he didn’t tell mother how the books she’d brought he’d read a hundred times, reading them over and over again to drown out his thoughts of death that drowned his soul in dismay; he certainly didn’t dare to tell anything to Odin about the matter.

 

Instead he just remained silent about all of it.

 

He remained so quiet, so quiet and conflicted about everything that he didn’t dare to bring any of these secrets to the forefront because what could they really do? How could anyone really help Loki?

 

If death was his only release to all of this pain, how could any of them willingly let him go so he could be free?

 

He knew his not family well enough, well enough in the spirit of Thor’s own words that they would not dare to let him go so easily.

 

He felt more pain at that thought and more understanding of it all than he cared to admit but he just wasn’t so sure that his observations were any more or less true than what his mind told him.

 

But he was so very tired.

 

Day in and day out he was stuck with a mind that showed him torture after torture and he just wanted it all to come to a halt.

 

Why was that so difficult to find?

 

Why was such a fate so inescapable for Loki to come into contact with? Why was he chosen to survive when so many others, others better than he, had come to perish?

 

Was there meaning in his life yet? Meaning that was too dark for him to see on his own?

 

Was it possible that if he couldn’t see it for himself that maybe someone external to him could see it for him instead?

 

He knew not where the true answer lied. He knew not where his thoughts would conclude for his circumstance. He knew not whether he would wake to see the sun rise over the Asgardian palace, shimmering onto the gold of the city as others arose from their beds into the anguish of life.

 

He knew not whether he could handle one more inhale and one more exhale, but he knew he would come around again to these questions, to these themes, to these lack of understandings and lack of meaning in why he’s been made to suffer so.

 

So when Thor spoke again, when words nearly foreign and clumsily put together escaped from his lips and Loki found himself disentangling them from each other, he heard his brother say:

 

“…I will be here for you, brother. I am not going anywhere. We are here for you. Always. Whatever you need, we are here. Now, let’s get you out of this tub.”

 

And Loki found himself hoping: maybe he would be there for himself, too.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hello everybody!! 
> 
> Welcome back to another new chapter! I had started this chapter back in 2018 but got stuck with it after a point and just newly wrote again for it this past weekend! I hope that you are enjoying this story and if you happen to read my other stories, thank you and good luck because I seem to write the same themes/concepts over and over again in slightly different ways. Ahaha. But really though, I do. XD 
> 
> Thanks for reading though and leave me a comment on what you think of this story thus far! Also, I hope you laughed a few times in this chapter or got teary-eyed because I know I did!
> 
> Happy reading. xxx 
> 
> Written: 4.7, 4.9, 5.21, 5.24.2018; 1.4, 1.5.2019  
> Typed: 1.6, 1.7.2019 I’ve also changed the page breaks for this story on both FF.net and AO3 so they are now up to date. :)


	10. Chapter 10

**Trigger Warning: Suicidality, Suicide attempt**

 

He had thought that things would be different in the days leading up to his ultimate demise, but looking back on them they were ordinary and boring, even. The sun came slowly, radiating white light that stretched with a yawn over all of Asgard before hours later descending back into darkness as the stars twinkled and the moonlight faded upon the backs of children at play.

 

He found himself wondering if things could have been different, if things were ending in a just manner or if there was some other answer lay hidden from his vision.

 

He felt Thor would be all right, that mother would mourn for a dreadfully long time and that Odin would move on after a few weeks.

 

The tears would well up in his eyes about his not-family, until he was forcing himself to shake his head and remember that he was only a burden to them now, in this state, and that this was permanent, but his life didn’t have to be.

 

He would exhale a long breath, shaken at the thoughts, and wondering if this was going to be it for him.

 

He felt strangely at peace and conflicted at the same time. It wasn’t that he was unafraid to die but that he felt he would be doing everyone a favor by ending his suffering. He knew the looks they cast upon him--pity and sadness; pity for those who felt above him and sadness for those who saw every flaw and fault within this soul and his unresponsive body parts. He knew the way their shoulders tightened with stress when they would come to visit him, how they would feel worse after seeing him to be reminded from others of all that he no longer was. He knew his existence was taking a toll on them. It would only be merciful to end their pain along with his own; it’s how he thought of it all, because he had to. He had to make a difference in their lives for the better, even if they wouldn’t see it as such. Loki, he saw the bigger picture, where his not family members were blinded by love and compassion.

 

His mind, for whatever it was worth, would not allow him to see any other alternative than the one he had concluded with. His mind, he failed to realize, was a thick fog that distorted the world and his worth around him.

 

Because Loki did not voice his pain to the others who strode to stand by his side, they knew not how to help him. They knew not how much pain he was in. And maybe they would not be able to understand, maybe they wouldn’t want to, but Loki never said anything about it because he was scared.

 

He was scared for what they might say that would cause him to put down the blade. Because continuing onwards with his life, albeit handicapped, was more terrifying than facing the darkness of oblivion.

 

So he kept his pain hidden, to himself, to no one else. He kept the darkness from reaching his fake smiles as he pretended to be all right when Thor or Frigga came to visit. He tried to use the pain that Odin didn’t seek him out outright as fuel for his plans, fuel to remind himself that he wasn’t all that important anyhow. Not that important to warrant a stage presence from the Allfather, at least.

 

And so, when the guards outside the room weren’t paying close attention and the heads of all the other Asgardians in the infirmary were tucked to the side as they snored to sleep, Loki would spend that time crying, weeping, hurting. And no one knew.

 

No one knew at all.

 

And if Loki had had his way, no one would ever have known. But for some reason, the universe hated him. Or for some reason, he was spared once again. Loki could never decide on which it was, but it landed him with time to consider this dichotomy.

 

;/;

 

Thor, as it were, was a heavy sleeper. He would snore quite loudly, disgruntled in his slumber, and would hardly even wake abruptly when dawn struck the sky and Loki, as they were children, would come barging into his room and jumping on his red clothed bed to wake him up (often, unsuccessfully).

 

So it came to Thor as an utter surprise, and slight delight, that he awoke very early in the still dark hours.

 

He wasn’t sure what it was that awoke him but he knew that as he stared out in the dark room with his blue eyes wide, that he clambered out of bed in a startled frenzy, reaching easily for the door and hurrying with warp speed to the infirmary, that something was very, very wrong.

 

What he found in the infirmary made his heart stop. It was no more than a few minutes’ walk from his bedroom to the infirmary, but Thor had managed to get there in seconds with his large, and often heavy, footfalls.

 

The disturbance that crashed into the air from Thor’s thunderous movements caught the trickster so off guard that he found himself staring up at his elder sibling with his jaw slack and his eyes pleading.

 

“Thor, please,” Loki croaked in a whisper that barely even met his brother’s ears. “Just turn away and go back to bed.”

 

He didn’t mean to, but he somehow landed on the hard floor upon his knees, one hand outstretched to his younger sibling.

 

“Loki?”

 

Heads tilted around them before sliding back into sleep.

 

“Thor,” Loki said, voice sharper this time as the blade he held in his hand shivered. “I can do this. There’s still time.”

 

Thor’s face contorted both into horror and a deep sadness, a sadness deeper than Loki had expected--not that he ever factored Thor entering the infirmary in the middle of the night into any of his plans.

 

Loki’s voice hardened again as he replied, “Thor, go.”

 

“But I thought--” Thor began, but Loki’s voice cut him off.

 

“You thought everything was going to be rainbows and butterflies? Yes, I know, but Thor, they are **not**. I can’t--I can’t live like this. I won’t. I refuse to. So, I suggest you turn back around and leave this room as though you saw nothing. It’s not like I’ll be around to voice any different of an opinion.”

 

Thor blinked as tears flooded his vision. “But Heimdall--Father--”

 

“They can’t see me.” Loki raised his chin in defiance. “I already thought of that loophole about twelve days ago. You’re the only one seeing this, brother. So, go, now, before I stab this blade into your flesh and then again into mine.”

 

“Loki, you can’t be serious? Why would I--?”

 

“Ohohoh, I am **very** serious, Thor. I’ve thought about this day and night, putting on fake smiles and hiding away with my pain each and every agonizing minute that breath has been in my breast. I’m tired of this, Thor. I’m so, so, so tired. I don’t want to be living in this pain anymore. Why can’t you see that? Why can no one see how deeply I am hurting?” Loki choked back a sob; the night was always the worst for his emotions and his mind. “So, please, Thor, I beg of you--let me go. Let me fall from this makeshift Bifrost; let me go to rule a better realm. Let me go to feel joy again, let me go to no longer be frozen in this damaged body. Just let me go, Thor. Please.”

 

By this point, Loki’s grip on the blade had begun to clench, straining his muscles so that it actually hurt to keep it against his flesh. He had tears rolling down his cheeks as he sobbed: pain spurring more pain.

 

He felt, rather than saw, Thor embrace him. Loki wasn’t sure if it was before he dropped the blade or after, but Thor’s arms had come to rest across his shoulders, Thor’s warmth had come to bathe in Loki’s cold, Thor’s voice shook with emotion as he held his brother close.

 

“I am so sorry, brother,” Thor cooed softly, tears shedding into Loki’s shirt as the trickster cried and brought snot all over Thor’s shoulder.

 

“I didn’t know you felt this ill. I’m so, so sorry.” Thor apologized, over and over, but it was like white noise to the trickster, so he didn’t mind completely.

 

“No one ever knew,” Loki explained, afraid of where this now left him and yet relieved that someone now knew of his darkest secrets.

 

Thor held Loki close before outstretching his arms and meeting his green eyes.

 

“You didn’t tell anyone about these feelings?” Thor asked in disbelief.

 

Loki mutely nodded.

 

“Oh, brother, in keeping this pain, unfathomable and unhinged, to yourself you wrought only more pain onto you.” Thor caressed the side of Loki’s neck, lovingly. “When will you see that we want to help you? When will you see that you are deserving of this kindness?”

 

Loki began to stutter a response, though he hardly knew what to say, when Thor shushed him.

 

“It’s all right, brother. I see you. I hear you. You are safe now,” Thor gave his brother another hug before looking guiltily back at him, sighing.

 

“I know you won’t like this, Loki, but I have to tell mother and father.”

 

Loki immediately began to recoil and protest heartily but Thor just continued as though there were no such ruckus.

 

“We can do far better for you, Loki. There must be something we’re not seeing; that we’re not doing yet, that can change things around. I will not give up on you, brother. I only ask…” Thor hesitated for a moment, eyes lowering to the floor before looking back up at his brother. “I only ask that you, too, don’t give up on you either.”

 

Loki shuddered, wiping away the free range tears from his puffy eyes and laughing mirthlessly.

 

“Do you really think there’s something better out there for me?” He asked, coldly.

 

Thor’s frown deepened but he replied with hope, “I think we have to try to find it. If you die, you won’t ever. But if you live, even if it takes time, it can be found.”

 

Thor looked off to the side for a moment before adding, “Can you promise me that you won’t try to end your life again until I speak to mother and father about this?”

 

“I’d rather you not tell them,” Loki mentioned with a look of disgust.

 

“I cannot promise that, Loki. You require more aid than what Asgard can provide to you, safely. I have an idea, but I have to discuss it with mother and father first. Promise me you will remain safe until then?”

 

It wasn’t supposed to be a question but Thor was in uncharted territory here. He was uniquely reminded of the time Loki had chosen to fall from the Bifrost, and his heart ached at that being something so dark and on his mind again since the paralysis.

 

Loki stared at Thor for a moment, silent and thinking, then he shrugged his shoulders.

 

“Fine, but I want to see the sunrise first and to explore Asgard’s halls.”

 

“And you’ll give me your weapons?”

 

 _Even if I give him my blades now, I can still conjure one into existence when the opportunity presents itself,_ Loki thought to himself as he sighed with contempt.

 

“Yes.”

 

Thor nodded in agreement.

 

“Okay. Let’s go.”

 

And with only soft mutterings of distaste, Thor took Loki within his arms and walked away from the horrors of the infirmary that were almost lost to grief for all of Asgard.

 

;/;

 

It was only when Thor reached the edge of the golden palace and set Loki down upon the back of an old weeping willow that he moved from being quiet to speaking the concerns that were on his mind. If anything, Loki was surprised he had remained as silent as he had for so long.

 

“Loki,” Thor began, but his younger sibling shushed him with a wavering hand, his green eyes glued to the scene ahead.

 

“Shhh, Thor, you’re ruining the moment.”

 

For a second, Thor felt Loki wasn’t about to say anything else but he opened his mouth again and said, with his eyes twinkling with tears: “Do you realize how beautiful a sunrise can be when you were never supposed to live to see it again?”

 

Thor’s head tilted as he gazed upon his brother, taking in the pain within his face and upon his posture.

 

Hesitantly, Thor replied, “You know I have not.”

 

“It’s remarkable,” Loki whispered; eyes glued to every molecule that the rising sun encompassed. Light trailed over darkness, pulling it apart like a spider’s web, twinkling and mesmerizing. Loki looked ahead to where the Bifrost began, the rainbow bridge accentuated in every tone and color, the water below fast approaching the sun’s outstretched hands. Everything had a sparkle to it, a mirror of truth and reflection, a… sense of true peace.

 

A few stray tears fell from Loki’s cheeks but he barely even registered them. Instead, he tilted his head above him to watch over the tall branches of the tree upon which he rested his slender shoulders.

 

“The world out here is so…large. It’s so much bigger than you would think it to be.” Loki shook his head, his mind craving to store every ounce of detail from the world he had once called home. “It’s so easy to get lost within the insanity of one sole room. Trust me, Thor, if you’d been staying in the infirmary for as long as I, you would understand.” He chuckled softly. “I forgot that this existed. I forgot that there was more to life than just a single, stationary bed.”

 

Loki’s fingers tickled the blades of grass, watching the small insects carry tools and nutrients back to their little nests.

 

Thor was still staring at him in slight bewilderment but he drew upon his old memories of being ill and stowed away in his room, fighting fevers and chills that wracked uncomfortably through his body. In this way, he could hasten a general understanding of what Loki was speaking of, but he couldn’t get a clear picture. It’s as if no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t break through to his little brother.

 

Loki, however, was continuing.

 

“I know you believe in the notion that life for me will improve, brother.” Loki began cautiously, eyes scanning the crisp skyline. “But if I were to die here and now, I’d be blessed to have that opportunity to leave this life behind. This is a hell, a nightmare I wish I could awaken from but every day that I close my eyes I wake again in the morn’ for another day to repeat itself.” Loki turned to Thor then, eyes lost in a swirling discomfort. “I know you do not understand, and maybe you never will. But I will keep trying to end my life if I am to sit here within this castle, unable to move, unable to speak candidly with the few souls around me who for some unclear reason don’t dislike my company.”

 

Loki snorted, eyes rolling as he muttered into the wind, “If I were to be born of Asgard, then I will die of Asgard as well.”

 

He paused, hesitating briefly before adding, “Sometimes our lives don’t have happy endings. Sometimes it’s just the cruelty of the end that meets us. And it will meet us, one day, because such is life.” He hummed to himself but left his thoughts there, almost unfinished, as if he had stopped in the middle of a sentence.

 

Another surprise came to Loki when Thor continued to remain silent. In reality, his mind was spinning for answers and questions to ask his brother that he knew not how to word carefully without causing unnecessary harm onto his younger sibling.

 

“…Loki, I want you to live because I believe it gets better than this. I know that it does, brother. This--this isn’t the way your story is meant to end. Not here, not now. You’ve been through so much, Loki, and you’ve made it out through every dark time since. Your life is important, brother. If none of us felt as such, would we have done everything in our power to save you? Would we not have just let you wander off to die alone?” Thor’s eyes mirrored the pain rivaling into triumph within Loki’s soul.

 

“If you were not important to us, if we did not truly love you, wouldn’t we have just left you behind? But we haven’t, Loki, we have not. Only you have, but it’s not your fault, brother, pain is clouding your judgment. I believe in your ability to come through this alive, brother, I truly do.” Thor rested a hand on his brother’s shoulder, squeezing lightly in a desperate attempt to root Loki back to the present moment.

 

He didn’t protest at the physical contact. Instead, his eyes slipped downcast as he thought over Thor’s words.

 

A faint smile appeared on Loki’s face. He adjusted his gaze to meet the warmth the sun began to shed upon the darkness. Maybe things could be different yet.

 

“So what do you propose we do, Thor?” he asked, gaze purposefully shifted away from his elder sibling.

 

“I have an idea,” Thor confirmed, lips thinning into a tight line, uncertain as to whether he should brief the idea to Loki or not. Instead, he opted for vague musings. “You may not like it, in fact you probably won’t like it, but I think it’s the safest option for us at this time.” Thor gave a small sigh. “I only require your word that you will try, that you will try to hold onto hope. Believe in my vision that you will get better if you cannot envision it for yourself. Believe in me, brother, please. And if it doesn’t work out, if everything we try fails, then, then you can make your own decisions. But not before, brother, not until we try everything.” He stared at the profile of his brother’s face for a full minute. “Do I have your word?”

 

Loki considered this compromise carefully; eyes roaming over the puffy clouds, the water that sprayed up onto the shoreline, the sound of birds squawking in the distance. Was he ready to give all of this up for the torment that followed his every waking moment? Because, what if Thor was right? What if Thor knew something he did not, that things could get better, that they could improve even just marginally? Was that not worth the effort, the attempt to try and find a better place within this chaos called life?

 

Because maybe it did matter, maybe Loki’s life was worth something, maybe, maybe he could learn to be okay again.

 

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly before swiveling his gaze over to Thor, and nodded in ascension.

 

Thor tried to keep the grin from erupting on his face but Loki saw it anyways and only playfully shoved his elder before they sat in pleasant silence, one hoping for the world and one savoring the present.

 

;/;

 

Consequently, when the two brothers were finished watching the sunrise and Thor’s speech babbled into incoherencies due to his lack of sleep (and the fact that Loki was so awake and coherent otherwise was dually noted by the thunder god and not a forgotten detail as the younger sibling had hoped but rather shelfed for the current moment) that the next trail of events followed: Thor deposited Loki back into his old green and gold clad bedroom with a guard residing both in and out of the room (after Loki made a scathing remark that shot fear through his feet like lightning,) and Thor then trotted off to speak with mother and father together in the throne room.

 

“Father!” Thor called out, almost breathless from all the running around he had been procuring that morning.

 

“My son,” Odin turned to him to him in shock, his robes trailing like tendrils over the golden palace’s smooth floor.

 

“Father, it is of an urgent matter,” Thor said somberly, glancing over at Frigga who stood by father’s side.

 

“What is it, my dear?” Frigga questioned, brows lowering in concern, sensing something was wrong.

 

“It’s Loki, mother,” Thor sputtered for a moment, uncertain how to break the grave news to what had occurred just hours ago. Thor felt like he were living in a different world altogether, the truths that came spilling from Loki’s lips were so dark and confusing and breathtaking, he wasn’t sure how to properly expel the demons to his parents let alone for them to come to understanding that he had an idea, albeit problematic, but hopefully life-saving for their other son.

 

Frigga shivered visibly, eye flicking to Odin’s for just a second.

 

“Loki…is ill.” Thor paused, stricken into silence.

 

“A complication from the paralysis?” Odin asked, eye roaming over the thunder god.

 

Thor shook his head vehemently. “No, father. He is ill of mind. Loki wishes to die.” Thor’s bottom lip quivered with the surge of emotions that wracked his chest in a way that felt like someone had just ripped out his heart and trampled over it a good hundred times. He couldn’t quite force his skull to look towards his parents as he continued, voice shaking.

 

“Father, it’s bad. I awoke in the middle of the night with dread in my bosom, something was wrong, and when I went to the infirmary Loki--. Loki was…was about to kill himself.”

 

He still couldn’t shake the shock from his mind at finding his younger sibling, the one he was supposed to protect the most, with a blade in his hand and… If he had just been a few minutes later, if he hadn’t woken up at all, if Loki had not spoken to him at length, begging to die and later to watch the sunrise, Thor feared what may have been unleashed.

 

Unbeknownst to Thor, mother had tears in her eyes and father looked pained, a frown settling upon his features as he remembered when he had told Loki no and his son had chosen to fall from the Bifrost.

 

“We will make peace with him here,” Odin said slowly, sounding out the words in his hollow cheeks as if they were physically difficult to comprehend.

 

Thor eagerly shook his head, adamantly staring up at his parents now.

 

“Father, he will only try again. Please, it is clear that Asgard is ill equipped to handle his needs. I fear this will be the end for him if he is forced to remain here.” Thor’s blue eyes shone with unhinged emotion, knowing more than his parents realized.

 

He knew not how his father would react, but he had to offer the hand of an olive branch now.

 

“I believe my friends on Midgard can help him, father. They, they are likely more able in these circumstances to provide a better outcome for him. We have to try, father, we owe that to Loki.”

 

Odin made to protest, maybe thinking better for their second born, when Frigga answered instead. “Take him, Thor.”

 

She turned to Odin, fear evident in her expression.

 

“I do not wish to bury the memory of my son again, once was enough. If there is any chance that he may find peace, even amongst a different realm, then I will do everything in my power to make him comfortable. We are outnumbered here, my king. If he was going to improve physically, let alone mentally, wouldn’t he have already? Allfather, keeping him here is equivalent to death. At least on Earth, he will have a chance.”

 

Odin’s expression crippled into one of anxiety as he considered the pleas from his partner and the concern that emanated from his first born.

 

“Take him. If he is to be safe there, that is all that matters.”

 

Thor nodded his allegiance, offering a grim smile to his parents as he began to back away into the hall.

 

“Loki will thank you, in time, for this decision. I know of it.” And with that, his back retreated into the castle, to tell the only soul left who may not react in kind to his proposal.

 

It was only with hope in his breath and anxiety in his chest that he believed this would go okay for the trickster. Because if this weren’t to work out, if this plan were to fail, Thor knew he’d be burying his little brother, losing him forever into the corners of his lost mind, and a fate worse than death would be left behind in all that once knew of Loki. He feared that more than anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Heyyyy everybody!! Oh my gosh, so I hope you guys had tissues reading this chapter! It’s definitely the first suicide attempt scene I’ve written in my fics thus far and I really feel proud of it because I think it’s such a delicate subject and I don’t feel I was unnecessarily and unsafely explicit with it, which I think I may have had trouble with a few years ago. Instead, I focused more on the emotions that were brought up and at play within the characters while also hoping to instill some faith and belief for the best within the dialogue itself. 
> 
> Any who, this actually took me about 3 days to write completely in a row, which I feel is a feat in and of itself. I’m hoping to work on D&D, ALU and TWBtE soon as well, so you can be on the lookout for more chapters to come in those stories relatively soon. :D 
> 
> I also hope that this chapter isn’t completely out of left field but I felt that I had used up my time for Asgard and that with the depiction of the last chapter that it was natural for this plot to progress to this point. So, that’s just some of my reasoning. Originally I had written this chapter with Loki being compliant with Thor’s requests of safety as if he fully participated in his treatment regarding his suicidality, but I changed it last minute to reflect that while safe for the moment, he still has his doubts. I’m not sure which is more believable, so feel free to let me know in the reviews! I also imagine Loki’s scathing remark was some offhand comment about how he shouldn’t be left alone to his own devices which was a pointed jab to Thor for not thinking of that himself (as I can’t picture Thor knowing *all* the right things to do in this given situation and leaving suicidal people alone when they’re in crisis is a big no-no). 
> 
> Overall though, stay safe, friends. 
> 
> Chapter written: 3/5, 3/6, 3/7/2019   
> PS The songs I listened to to create this chapter include “One more light” by Linkin Park, “Love Vigilante” by Iron & Wine and funnily enough “Despacito” by Luis Fonsi.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N as of: 11/16/2018, Hey everybody! Here is another fic whose original home is on both my deviantART page and my FF.net account under the same username I have here. This is a beloved story of mine that will have multiple chapters (probably around 40) covering how Loki becomes challenged to overcome his greatest adversity. It will have some suicidal mentions just so you're aware, and I'll make sure to have trigger warnings for those chapters when necessary. I don't want to give away too much about his injury that he sustains but I think it'd be really interesting and you would not be disappointed if you took the time out to read this! I've hit a bit of a dry spell in writing so far with this particular story (like most of my stories actually, gee, thanks uni!) but I hope to get back into it before the end of the year. Any who, hope you're well! 
> 
> This piece began: 11/27/2016  
> Enjoy!!


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